


Archer’s Paradox

by Gremkt



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Grey Warden Alistair (Dragon Age), M/M, Pre-Relationship, Warden Carver Hawke, failed archery lessons, slight miscommunication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:47:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26945410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gremkt/pseuds/Gremkt
Summary: Alistair offers to help Carver practice shooting in a misguided attempt to spend time with him. It’s only after the deal has already been made that he remembers he’s actually not that good at archery.
Relationships: Alistair/Carver Hawke
Comments: 5
Kudos: 14





	Archer’s Paradox

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to start with a disclaimer that I know very little about archery and while I did do a tiny bit of googling, I have no idea what I’m talking about. Hopefully this isn’t riddled with inaccuracies, and if it is, I apologise <3

Alistair Theirin knew how to shoot an arrow. 

He wasn’t particularly _good_ at it, but he could usually get the arrow to at least hit a target. As long as it wasn’t moving, anyway. Maybe not _exactly_ where he intended to hit it but the arrow generally made contact.

It wasn’t something he thought about too often, not these days, but the empty training ground, the targets set up, the bow lying neatly to the side… it was all very tempting.

The wood was smooth under his fingers as he ran his hand along the bow, memories flooding side back. They’d done a lot of travelling during the Blight, so many long days and nights camped outside, travelling between locations. Ample opportunity to practice skills, refine them, but it had made sense to learn new skills as well, and archery had been one of the things he learnt. Ellas had taught him, and Leliana. 

It was amazing how you could sometimes feel like you had more free time to practise things like that during a Blight than dealing with all the daily workings of the Wardens.

“Do you mind?” he asked the Warden responsible for the equipment, currently doing some maintenance on a different weapon. The woman nodded, passing him a quiver of arrows as well. 

“The more practiced we are, the better,” she said. 

The bow felt familiar in his hands as he nocked an arrow, hands finding the position they needed almost instinctively, relying on muscle memory alone as he aimed, drew, fired. The arrow didn’t quite fly straight, didn’t quite hit where he hoped, but he didn’t care. It was nice to give it a go again, to go through those familiar gestures, to know he remembered. 

“I didn’t know you could shoot.”

Alistair spun around, bow hanging limply in his hands. Carver, his arms full of firewood as he watched with an amused smile on his face. 

“Well, you know, I have a wide range of skills. Fighting. Swordsmanship. Archery. Being devilishly handsome. Spotting cool rocks.”

Carver _had_ been fascinated, after all, by the rock Alistair had found a few days earlier containing flecks of gold. He had also been excited to show Alistair the rock he had found - the one he thought was shaped like a butt. And to be fair, he was right. It had looked like a butt. 

“I can see that,” Carver said, shifting the stack of wood. “I can't even remember how to even hold a bow.”

“I could help you practice,” Alistair blurted, his words moving quicker than his thoughts. They seemed to do that a lot. He wasn’t at all confident at all in his ability to actually help somebody practice their skills, but… those memories with the archers rolling their eyes as they reset the targets, of the laughter and jokes around the camp as Alistair practiced, they were memories he held dearly.

He wouldn’t mind some memories like that. 

Especially the memories of Ellas and Leliana adjusting his posture, moving his arms, standing close behind him, so close he could feel their bodies behind him.

He _definitely_ wouldn’t mind some new memories of that kind with Carver Hawke.

He already felt like he looked at Carver the same way Zevran used to look at Ellas, although he didn’t think Carver had noticed, and Zevran had definitely taken advantage of some of the archery time. 

Before answering, Carver hesitated a moment too long for Alistair’s liking, long enough that he was able to think maybe offering had been a mistake. But then he nodded, a hint of a smile on his face. 

“Sure. That’d be fun.” 

The sun was beginning to get a little too low in the sky for much more practice today, the smell of dinner already beginning to waft through the camp. But Carver promised to come back another day, Alistair reiterating his promise to help him practice. 

It was only after Carver had left, after the deal had already been made, that Alistair remembered that he wasn’t actually very _good_ at archery. He could shoot, yes, and usually hit a target but… 

With a sigh, wishing the Warden-Commander hadn’t already left the camp, he picked up the bow again. If he was going to impress Carver with his skills - although honestly he’d also settle for just not making a fool of himself - he probably needed to practice. A lot. 

  
* 

The arrow hit the target, barely striking the edge but striking it nonetheless.

“Almost!” Alistair said, trying to sound encouraging, looking at the arrow hanging limply from the target. It hadn’t quite hit hard enough to fully penetrate but at least it had made contact. 

They’d been practicing for three days now, and Carver already seemed to be improving - during their first session, Carver seemed to have trouble even pulling the bowstring back enough for the arrow to fully cross the distance to the target. Thankfully Alistair’s skills seemed to surpass Carver’s and Alistair was relieved that he hadn’t had to admit he’d probably overestimated his abilities. He wasn’t at all qualified to teach anybody, but he was definitely enjoying this time spent together, and he hoped Carver was too.

They had extended the invitation to join them to the other Wardens but so far nobody had taken them up on the offer. Alistair was secretly relieved. It made this time more special, more like a secret time he got to spend just with Carver. 

“Almost,” Carver agreed. 

“You hit it though!” Alistair reiterated, enthusiastic enough for both of them. “You might even be ok if you were fighting a… I don’t know, a very slow flightless bird. Or a... pumpkin. And you had a lot of arrows.”

“Show me again?” Carver said, the corners of his mouth twitching at Alistair’s words. Alistair stepped close behind him, nudging Carver’s foot slightly to the side with his own, back to the position he remembered Leliana reminding him of so many times. 

“Pull it all the way back,” he said, so close he could see the shorter hair at the base of Carver’s neck, the small blemishes on his skin. So close he could smell him, the scent of leather and sweat and some kind of spice he couldn’t identify. He just hoped Carver wouldn’t notice as he breathed it in, trying to commit it to memory as though it wasn’t already there.

Being this close to Carver filled him with a feeling he couldn’t quite explain, something he definitely didn’t remember from those days during the Blight, when he was the one being guided. He hadn’t wanted his fellow companions to be so close to him then, to stay so close. They hadn’t made his stomach flutter when he thought about them. Not like Carver did. 

“Like this?” Carver pulled the bowstring taught, one strong arm outstretched in front of him, the other folded by his chin. Alistair rested his own hand against Carver’s extended wrist, tilting it slightly to the side, trying to judge where the arrow head needed to be pointing. Their arms stayed parallel as Carver steadied the shot, his muscles working to hold the string ready until he fired.

It hit the target closer to centre this time.

“You did it!” Alistair exclaimed, excited for Carver, who spun around to grin at him, breaking the contact between their bodies. Alistair thought he had a lovely smile. “You’re getting closer and closer!”

“I think I need a break now though,” Carver said, rolling his shoulders, “before my arms fall off.” 

Alistair’s shoulders hurt too, the different weapon using muscles and movements he wasn’t accustomed to. But that was worth it. 

“Time for a break,” he agreed. 

“Same time again tomorrow?” Carver asked, stowing the bow back in the wagon where it belonged. 

“Same time tomorrow,” Alistair told him with a smile. “Hopefully with arms still attached.”

  
*

Alistair tried not to hurry too obviously through the camp as he headed towards the area set up for training.

As it turned out, the ‘same time tomorrow’ plan hadn’t worked out, interrupted by an unexpected group of Darkspawn and the ensuing chaos of locating where they had exited the Deep Roads. But he was still hopeful they could get some training done, even if he had asked one of the other Wardens to let Carver know he probably wouldn’t be there for a while. 

In the end though, they had determined the Darkspawn had most likely been on the surface for a while, escaping through an entrance already sealed, and while there were probably more productive things he should be doing, Alistair just wanted to make use of the remaining time he had to spend with Carver. A shorter time than planned was better than nothing at all. 

It seemed Carver had decided to practice even without Alistair, however, already standing with the weapon, target in front of him.

Rather than making himself known straight away, Alistair paused by the trees at the edge of the clearing, watching Carver’s broad shoulders as he once again readied the bow. The strength was obvious in his muscles, in his shoulders and back, as he adjusted his stance, drawing the bowstring.

With a twang, the arrow flew through the air, thudding solidly into the target, only just shy of centre. Carver pulled another arrow from the quiver, aiming slowly before he fired again. The second arrow was even closer to centre than the first. 

“Nice shot,” Alistair said, trying to lean suavely against the nearby tree, arms crossed in an attempt to appear casual. Carver jumped, blushing beet red as he saw Alistair. “No really, I’m impressed. Honestly.” 

“I… um..” Carver spluttered, trying unsuccessfully to find something to say. “Yeah. I guess you’re a really good teacher.” 

“You already know how to shoot, don’t you?” Alistair asked. It was clear the other man did, probably much better than he could. You wouldn’t be able to make a shot like that, let alone two, without knowledge and practice. 

“My father taught me,” Carver admitted. “He said he couldn’t teach me magic like my siblings but he wanted to still teach me something useful. So, he taught me to shoot, so I could hunt.” 

“He did a good job,” Alistair said, moving closer to the target where the two arrows pierced so close to the centre. Carver smiled at his words, although he seemed to be trying to hide it. 

“He tried, anyway. A lot of it was just practice. I used to…” he paused, suddenly looking uncertain. 

“Used to…?” Alistair prompted reassuringly. 

“I used to go outside when I was angry or frustrated and practice. I didn’t always shoot but sometimes it was nice to do the same thing over and over, just… shooting at the target.”

“I’ve tried hitting things when I’m frustrated as well,” Alistair said. “Never thought to use it as a way of bettering my skills though.” He made a face as though contemplating a deep thought, deliberately exaggerating the expression. “I should’ve tried shooting my problems, maybe I’d have had less of them. Or at least maybe I could have made them too scared to come near me.”

Carver snorted out a laugh. 

“I can’t promise that,” he said. “It helped me organise my thoughts, though.” He rubbed his arm, eyes darting away from Alistar. “Probably silly I guess.” 

“Not at all,” Alistair said, placing his hand reassuringly on Carver’s shoulder. He tried not to think about the muscles there, the muscles he had just seen so clearly at work while watching Carver shoot. “I think it’s very sensible. And it clearly worked.”

“It wouldn’t do me much good in a fight though. I’m too slow. I’d have a sword through my gut before I even had the arrow out.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Alistair asked, thinking back to the last few days, the time he’d spent trying to help Carver. All the shots Carver had missed, the ones that hadn’t even made it to the target.

The blush in Carver’s cheeks had faded as he explained himself but it returned now, accompanied by a nervous cough. 

“You offered,” he said. “I thought… I thought it could be fun to spend some time together, practicing.” 

“You could have told me you knew what you were doing,” Alistair said, hoping, praying that Carver would recognise he was teasing. He hated the idea of Carver thinking he was annoyed at him. “We still could have practiced. Archery or sparing or something.” 

Although… thinking back to the last few days, standing behind Carver, helping him adjust his posture, his aim, part of him was glad Carver hadn’t told him. They still could have practiced but… would he have been able to touch Carver like that? Stand so close to him? 

Alistair swallowed nervously, worried his thoughts were written across his face. As much as he liked Carver, he didn’t know if Carver felt the same. 

“Uh, yeah. I guess we could have,” Carver said. “I agreed and then I panicked and missed on purpose and then I didn’t know how to take it back. I thought maybe I could pretend for a bit and then pretend I got better.”

His arms crossed defensively across his chest, as thought waiting to be told it was a silly idea. 

“You didn’t tell me you hardly knew what you were doing either,” he pointed out. 

Now it was Alistair’s turn to blush, his cheeks growing warm as Carver looked at him. 

“That obvious, huh?” His smile was bashful as Carver nodded apologetically. “Same reason I guess. I offered before I thought about it and then I didn’t know how to change it. I do that a lot. I think sometimes my mouth has a mind of its own, it starts talking and then suddenly I’m so something I’m entirely unqualified to do, like teaching archery or hosting a dinner for a group of Templars. Or… dancing.”

Carver laughed but the pause that followed stretched, neither of them sure what to say. In the end, it was Carver who broke the silence, the bow still dangling loosely from his hand. 

“Do you still want to practice?” 

Alistair hesitated. It was probably more practical to focus on the skills they’d be more likely to use in battle, with Carver’s enormous sword, his own sword and shield, but… 

“Of course,” he said. “After all, I’ll need to know how to shoot my problems away.”

As he laughed, Carver stepped closer, handing the bow to Alistair. Relieved at not having to pretend to be some kind of expert anymore, Alistair didn’t mind when his first shot more or less missed the spot he was aiming for. 

“If we’re being honest…” Carver started, words trailing off, the sentence unfinished. The expression on his face was amused as Alistair raised an inquiring eyebrow at him, encouraging him to continue. “I didn’t want to say when you were teaching but your posture’s really inconsistent. You want to keep your body really straight, like this.”

He stepped in behind Alistair, guiding his arm into a slightly different position, much like Alistair had done during his failed attempts at teaching.

With Carver warm and solid behind him, Alistair decided that the miscommunication didn’t really matter. He was still close to Carver, still had a reason for this casual contact, and it was just as nice to be helped by Carver as it was to help him. 

Now he just had to think of another excuse for next time. 

**Author's Note:**

> According to google, there’s a thing called archer’s paradox and it has something to do with how an arrow bends and flexes vs how straight it flies? I’m gonna be honest, I didn’t totally understand but I needed a title, it came up when I googled ‘archery terms’ and I felt like it fit so… 
> 
> I imagined this fitting in with my In Loss, Love fic, but not explicitly so it could stand alone/not necessarily fit the same timeline. Alistair is realising he likes Carver but I couldn’t decide if Carver’s had his ‘oh no I like him’ moment yet or if he’s still in a ‘I just think he’s neat’ stage, I guess you can decide that for yourself ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
